


The Wedding

by spaceshipdear



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Howard is a good pal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Steggy - Freeform, steggyweek, steggyweek2k18, this is kinda depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceshipdear/pseuds/spaceshipdear
Summary: Peggy was sitting alone at the table, looking at her friend dancing with his bride. It was a sweet moment. One that brought bittersweet memories. She used to have someone who looked at her that way. But she didn't want to think about him now.





	The Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Steggy Week Day 7: Free choice. And it's super depressing... Sorry!
> 
> I also apologize for any mistakes and grammar atrocities. This hasn't been beta'd, I haven't had a lot of time to edit it either and english isn't my first language. You've been warned! That being said, I loved writing this and I've had that idea in my head for a very long time. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, comments are fuel for my muses <3

The music playing in the small ballroom was slow and paired with the blue party lights, it created a romantic atmosphere that matched the mood of the wedding.

Peggy was sitting alone at her table, nursing a glass of champagne. She hadn’t been expecting this ambience for Dugan’s special day. She imagined something more festive, maybe even a bit brazen. But the evening turned out to be a pleasant and surprisingly emotional. There was an effervescence that Dugan and his group of mismatched friends from the war brought to it. She was sure though that Dugan’s fiancé, now wife, had to do with the romantic mood of the party.

The happy couple was dancing, Dugan had her hand wrapped in his above his heart and looked at her with such adoration in his eyes, Peggy was almost jealous. She used to have someone who looked at her that way. But she didn’t want to think about him now.

It was late, the party was almost over, only a few couples were still dancing, some guests were still mingling around the ballroom, but most of them were already home. She liked when these type of events reach this moment of quiet. She wanted to keep her mind out of the dark thoughts that had been clouding it for the past few year.

Her reflective moment was cut short when Howard Stark slumped in the chair next to her and sighed loudly.

“What’s with you?” She asked and when she saw the wicked smile forming on Howard’s lips she instantly regretted asking.

“That bridesmaid was a feisty one.”

Peggy couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief. “You came with a date, Howard how can you be so cavalier.”

His date seemed to be so infatuated with Howard when he introduced her to Peggy before the church ceremony. The poor thing.

“You know me, I love to multitask.” He wiggled his brows.

“Howard, you’re a pig,” she answered harshly and turned her back to him.

“Aw come on, Peg, don’t be mean,” he cooed at her.

“I’m not mean, just stating the truth,” she said without looking at him. “Be kind to her, when you throw her away like she’s one of your old pair of socks,” she concluded wryly.

“Of course I’m always a gentleman,” he said as Jones and Denier joined them at Peggy’s table.

“Who is a gentleman?” Denier asked while helping himself with the champagne bottle Peggy was planning on finishing tonight.

“Hey, that’s mine!” She told him and snatched the bottle from his hands.

Denier just laughed and drank the glass he poured himself in one go.

“For the record, I am the gentleman,” Howard said, leaning on the table and looking at Peggy with a smug smile.

“You my friend, are only a gentleman because you have enough money to pretend to be,” Jones explained, “otherwise you are a boor just like us!”

“Speak for yourself,” Denier interjected, “je suis le plus galant de vous tous de toute façon.”

“What did he say?” Howard looked at Jones.

“More nonsense.” Jones waved as Denier feigned to be shocked.

Peggy was looking at the exchange and couldn't repress the soft smile that curved her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she missed these men.

The ones she started working with at the SSR this past year would have never included her in their friendly benders. Not that they had this type of conversations anyway. Old friends from the war shared a camaraderie and a trust in each other that most men at the SSR didn’t like to demonstrate. They were a bunch of alpha males, always trying to prove they were the best at what they did. They just didn’t care about forming genuine bonds. They only thought about themselves.

These men here, the one she fought side by side in the trenches were the exact opposite. They were selfless, maybe a little too self-indulging. But they always, always made her feel like she belongs with the group. That she was a part of their makeshift family. Even after the war ended, even if they were all scattered across the world now back in their countries, in their towns, trying to make a life that the war had tainted with the horrors they endured.

They would always be the same group of reckless soldiers that fought the good fight and she knew they would be that closed-knitted band of brothers, and their British sister, for many years to come.

At least the ones that survived.

She felt her smile fall from her face and the too familiar tightness in her chest taking over.

“Carter?” Janes waved his hand in front of her eyes, startling her. “Are you with us?”

“Yes,” she blinked rapidly, “yes, I am. What is it?”

“We’re going out for cigars and drink that bottle of bourbon Denier stool from the fancy bar across the hall,” he told her and she realized Howard was up, next to Jones and Denier, the three of them looking at her expectantly.

She noticed the bottle-shaped budge under Denier’s jacket, where he had his hand hidden.

“I’ll leave you the cigars but that bourdon sounds like an amazing idea.” She stood up.

“Nothing on the stolen part? Jacques doesn’t get a scowling?” Howard seemed appalled.

“Where do you think I got the champagne?” She replied as she took the bottle in question and her glass with her to follow them.

Outside Peggy was welcomed by the light breeze that helped with the warmth her cheeks were experiencing because of the alcohol.

Their little group joined Falsworth and Morita who were laughing so hard that Morita was on the verge of choking.

“What or actually who are we laughing at?” Howard asked and sat down next to Morita, already offering cigars.

Peggy took a seat on a bench close to a little stream of water. The park outside the hotel where the wedding was held had a lovely setting and she got lost in gazing her surroundings as Morita retold the story of Dugan looking for his hat for hours before the ceremony started.

“I swear fellas, he was on a stress level that even when we were hidden in that small town in Poland, what was the name? God I can’t remember, but damn was he—”

“Was it Innsbruck?” Denier cut him.

“We never went anywhere close to Innsbruck,” Jones interjected, “and it’s in Austria.”

“Of course we went to Innsbruck!” Denier said, sounding almost outraged.

“Nah, the closer we were to Innsbruck was in Vaduz,” Falsworth.

“Vaduz? What kind of town name is that, Jesus,” Howard laughed.

“It’s in Liechtenstein,” Peggy answered, even though there was no reason to do so. Howard wasn’t even listening, already drowning his glass of bourbon.

“Can I finish my—” Morita tried to say but the loud debate that took place around him prevented him to even finish his phrase.

“Wait! Wait! Carter,” Jones shut them all up and pointed at Peggy, “Carter, I’m sure you remember! You know everything.”

Howard scoffed and Jones punched him in the stomach, not that gently.

All eyes turned on her and she watched inside her glass of champagne before lifting up her gaze. They were all silent now and watching her attentively. She let the moment of silence stretch, putting them all at the edge of their seat. She lifted her chin solemnly.

“I have no bloody idea,” she declared, full of confidence.

Not one of them didn’t burst into a loud laugh and without a once of care for sounding completely unrefined.

Peggy’s straight face turned quickly into a beaming smile and she even bowed her head down a little as she laughed quietly. God, it felt good. Almost luxurious, she couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so openly and naturally.

But she was lying to herself. Of course she remembered the last time she had such fun. They were all there, including Steve. It was somewhere in a small village in the mountains of Italy she couldn’t remember the name of. She didn’t remember the story either but Denier was on a roll, regaling them with tales from his wild years as a teenager in Marseille.

She had been laughing so hard her cheeks hurt. The strong homemade beer a family of goat herders had offered them that evening might have been to blame, but that one night she let herself go a little. Relishing into the good mood of the evening and the beaming smile on Steve’s face as he watched Jacques Denier reliving his childhood. She was mesmerized by the way his eyes lightened up and crinkled at the corner. She lost herself more than once contemplating him, there, under the light of the fire, sitting next to her.

As the evening came to an end, most of the Howlies fell asleep in front of the fire or returned in the vehicles to finish their night in a drier place than the forest ground.

Steve and Peggy stayed by the fire, alone. She was leaning on his side. She had been bumping into his shoulder a few times during their collective hilarity, both of them seeming to take the opportunity to get closer.

They had been silent for a short moment before Steve asked if she was cold. Honestly she was a little but the warmth radiating from his body was enough to keep her here, next to him. Even if she had been freezing she would have stayed there anyway. There didn’t have enough moments like this one they could share. She was rarely on the field with him, too busy to strategize or gather intel in a completely different country, miles away from him. And she missed him more than she would hope for during those periods of time.

He collected the blanket from his pack and draped it around them both, scouting over to make sure she was entirely covered. Her heart started stammering in her chest at the proximity.

“That okay?” Steve asked shyly.

“Of course it is,” she answered looking up at him, her eyes bright with all the love she fell for him.

Encouraged by the way she looked at him, he slid his hand across her back to pull her closer, resting it against her waist. She looked at the rest of the companions, making sure they were all asleep and she allowed herself to drop her head on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long moment, without saying a word, Steve rubbing his thumb against her side. It was so soothing that she ended up falling asleep. When she woke up in the early hours of the next day she was comfortably tucked under a blanket, Steve laying next to her under his own cover at a safe distance but still close enough. She watched him for a moment, peacefully sleeping, before Falsworth loud voice woke him up in a start. They shared a complicit smile and started their day lighter and stronger.

“By the way, I’m the one who hide the hat,” Howard finally was able to say after sobering up from his hilarity, bringing her back to the reality of the present day. A present without him.

“You did that?” Morita almost yelled and the rest of the team laughed even harder.

“But why?” Peggy asked between giggles.

“Are you kidding me? That hat is a insult to style and everything that’s holy in this world.”

As the laughter continued, Falsworth even chasing tears from the corner of his eyes, Peggy shrugged.

“I don’t know about style, but it’s nice to see something else than his mustache under that hat.” She smiled kindly.

“Still doesn’t make him a pretty man,” Denier interjected.

“Pretty!” Jones shouted and almost fell from where he was sitting.

“Pretty isn’t a word I’d use for Dugan. Ever.” Howard commented.

“We all know which one of us was the prettiest,” Denier said, punctuating his words with a finger in the air.

“Peggy?” Jones asked.

She flashed him a grin and patted his thigh.

“Peggy is out of the competition, none of us could ever wear such beautiful curls,” Denier continued.

“Speak for yourself, I’d look ravishing with rolls,” Falsworth mimicked a hair toss above his shoulder.

“You? You barely have one hair left on that rock of a head,” Denier mocked him. “No, no. Bucky. Ce cher Sergent Barnes. He stole the show.”

And suddenly the laughs and chatter quieted down as everyone seemed to get lost in the memories of their friend.

“He was a pretty fella, yeah,” Jones said softly.

“And a damn good shot,” Morita continued and lifted his glass. “To Sergeant Barnes.”

“To Sergeant Barnes,” they all repeated in unison, raising their glass and cigars.

Peggy’s arm barely made it to her face level. She watched as her fingers started shaking and put down the glass next to her on the bench, clasping her hands together. Thinking about Bucky inevitably brought her to that place in her heart where she kept Steve’s memory.

It had been easier lately. Since she poured his blood down the Hudson river, it had quieted down the immeasurable pain that crushed her chest when she thought of him.

“The prettiest of us all.” Howard drowned his drink, “after me obviously, but I wasn’t part of your merry band back then. So I forgive you for the mistake.”

“What mistake?” The strong voice of Dugan resonated in the courtyard. “Where have you all been? We turned around and everyone was gone.”

He held his bride’s hand as she followed him. He nudged Morita to move and offer his seat to her. Holding her hand like a gentleman Dugan helped his wife to sit down.

“They think Barnes was prettier than I am,” Howard answered his previous question, lighting up a cigar for him.

“Don’t I get a cigar?” Dugan’s wife, Mariella, asked Howard with both eyebrows raised.

“Madam, I apologize,” Howard bended down in front of her, extended a cigar ceremoniously in the palm of his hand.

Dugan looked at his wife with adoring eyes. “Isn’t she perfect?” He asked as Mariella draw on the cigar.

Peggy liked her she decided.

“By the way, I don’t think Peggy would have agreed that Barnes was the most handsome of the bunch,” Dugan said winking at her.

Peggy blinked and froze for a second. She noticed that Howard turned his eyes sharply to her direction and watched her attentively while the rest of the men were already back to their bender.

“Yes, well,” Peggy said and drowned down the end of her champagne, “you are the one getting married today, contrary to all your pals here. So I might not have looked at the right gentleman that all time.”

She offered him a smile that she made her best effort to look playful, although she knew it was probably visibly stiff.

“If I may say so,” Peggy added looking at Mariella.

“Oh, you may. I’m the one who scored with this one,” Mariella answered as she patted Dugan’s cheek.

“Ah we very well know that the first wedding we would have celebrated after the war would have been yours and the Captain, Peggy,” Denier said kindly.

Peggy’s heart rate started accelerating. No, not now.

She smiled weakly. She could feel the gaze of her companions and she was glad when Falsworth’s loud shout resonated around them.

“To the Captain!” He stood up and raised his glass high in the night sky.

“To the Captain,” they all repeated but she wasn’t hearing them.

Howard moved to sit beside her discreetly. “To Steve,” he said barely above a murmur, just for the two of them.

Peggy let out a strangled sob she damn hoped no one had heard and immediately stood up.

She took her time to smooth down her dress, trying to look as composed as she could.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the ladies’ room,” she declared, her voice as steady as she could managed.

When she was inside the ballroom, she almost started sprinting to the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty.

She broke down in tears almost immediately after her fingers reached the smooth surface of the ceramic sink, holding onto it to stay standing as her legs felt like they were about to give up under her. Her chest felt so tight she wasn’t sure how she was still breathing right now.

She reached the wall nearby for support and slided down against it until she was sitting on the floor, her legs bend down under her, the cold sensation of the tiled floor on her calf a welcomed sensation.

God, she missed him. She missed him so damn much she couldn’t breath.

She leaned her head back on the wall and let the tears flow. There was no reason not to now that she was alone. She could let it all out. She needed it. She would feel better, somehow, after. It was a routine she knew too well by now.

After a few too long minutes, someone knocked on the door. She knew it was about time someone would be sent to come and fetch her. She hoped it would be Mariella. At least she barely knew her. It would be easier she thought, to collect herself in front of a stranger.

When the door creaked open, she looked up to see Howard and his stupid mustache poking his head through the door.

She let out a watery huff of air.

“Peggy? Pal, you alright?” He asked tentatively as he opened the door to enter the ladies room.

She must look like a mess. Her makeup was probably drawing maps of foreign countries on her cheek and her eyes felt swollen and puffy. She looked up at him, asking “what do you think?” with her eyes.

He gave her an apologetic smile and came to sit next to her on the floor.

“I made a fool of myself, haven’t I?” She asked, her voice sounding small and weak.

“Nah, Jacques practically fell in the fountain and they already move to another round of bourdon. I promise they didn’t notice you leaving,” he said kindly.

She snorted. She knew it wasn’t true but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

They stayed silent for a long moment. Howard didn’t try to sooth her, to reason away her pain and her grief. He just leaned in a little against her shoulder, giving her the time she needed.

Peggy had stopped crying and she sniffed loudly. “I need to fix my makeup,” she said after a while.

Howard glanced at her and nodded, making an adorable grimace. She chuckled and dropped her head down.

“I miss him too,” Howard said quietly and when she lifted her head to look at him she saw an all too familiar pain in his eyes.

“I know,” she said, her voice a little broken still.

Howard put his hand on her cheek and pulled her closer to drop a kiss on her temple. She closed her eyes, holding on the welcomed reassuring touch.

“Come on pal, let’s make you presentable and go back at getting wasted with our friends.” He stood up and extended his hand to her. “I’ll even tell Dugan I’m the one that hid his stupid hat if that can make you laugh.”

She let out a chuckle and took Howard’s hand.


End file.
